How It Ends
by whoa bethers
Summary: This is the story of Madge Undersee's life and death in District 12.
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE **

The sun is bright and pouring down on me enough to force beads of sweat to slip down my neck. It doesn't bother me, though. I love the warmth and welcome it with open arms as I spin around the field back behind Mr. Delton's vegetable garden with my trusty sidekick dolls in either hand. I spin until my world starts to blur together and then I spin some more, laughing the whole time. Once I lose my balance, I fall to the ground with a thud and squint up against the sunlight. Everything is perfect. I can feel the grass starting to poke against my bare legs, but I resist the urge to scratch. My skin will adjust in a moment, and I can spend the rest of the day sprawled against the soft earth. The sun is high enough in the sky that I know I still have the whole afternoon ahead of me. And where else would I be on such a particularly lovely day?

Daddy never likes it when I venture all the way to Mr. Delton's garden, so today I made it a point not to tell him. I already know what he would say. He would sit me down at the kitchen table and say, "Now, Madge… you must be on guard and realize that not everyone will be as nice to you as you are to them." I never understand these speeches when he gives them, but I think maybe someday I will. For now, I'll just enjoy the summer sun and the company of Cora and Calen, my two favorite dolls that used to belong to my mom and my Aunt Maysilee. Cora was my mom's doll and made specifically to look like her, and Calen belonged to my aunt. The first time mom saw me playing with them, she pulled my hair and told me to never touch them again. I think once she realized daddy was mad at her, she apologized and told me I could have them.

I don't really have many friends, so I like to keep the company of my dolls and pretend that they're my friends. Cora fights with me a lot, but Calen is my favorite. It's probably silly to fight with your dolls, but if you imagine hard enough, it really makes sense. I mean, you can't get along all the time. Nobody gets along all the time. If someone says they do, I think they're just pretending. It's okay, though. I'll let them keep pretending their way, and I'll keep pretending with my dolls. I pull Calen to my chest and hug her against the fabric of my dress.

"Calen, do you think he's still there?" I ask her. Of course, I'm referring to Mr. Delton's vegetable garden monster that growls when he's hungry. I know it's not real, but it's the whole point of playing make believe. Not everything has to make perfect sense. "Let's run before he gets us!"

With that, I leap up from the ground, Cora in one hand and Calen in the other, and I run away from the garden where our pretend monster lives. I turn my head to look at the garden as my feet continue to carry me in the opposite direction. It's a mistake, I soon realize because I run hard enough right into something that knocks the wind out of my lungs. It's enough to make me fall back and land with a soft thump on the ground. It stings whatever bone that is at the very bottom of my back, but I quickly look up to see what I've hit.

Turns out, it isn't a "what" but a "who." I know his face, the boy I ran into. Cormack Holmes. He's older than me. I think he's twelve, but I can't be sure. I recognize his friends too. The dark haired boy is Rhys, and the one with the curls is Bennett. I'm not sure who the fourth one is. I don't recall ever seeing him before this moment.

"I'm sorry." I say sincerely as I hoist myself up off of the ground and attempt to walk around them.

Something's not right, though. I realize this as soon as Cormack steps to the side to block me from passing, and I look up in time to see a nasty smile that looks anything but friendly. I start to feel anxious, and the palms of my hands begin to sweat uncomfortably. My fingers grip around my dolls a little tighter than usual as I make another attempt to walk around this group of suddenly menacing boys. My second attempt was just as pointless as my first because it appears as if they have other plans for me. Plans that I'm still unaware of but sure I'll find out soon enough.

"Careful there, little girl. Don't want to ruin that pretty dress of yours." Cormack reaches down and tugs at the blue bow on the front of my dress until it comes undone. I glance down at my dress and frown at the sight my bow falling lamely against the white cotton. I love my blue bow because daddy says it brings out my eyes, but I realize now isn't the time to be thinking about that.

"And aren't you a little old to be playing with dolls?" Rhys chimes in and grabs Calen right out of my hands before I have a chance to protest.

"I'm eight!" I snap as I jump forward in an attempt to get my aunt's doll back, but it's useless. Cormack grabs me in an instant and lets out a harsh laugh as he holds me tight. I can't move really.

I can feel the tears starting to burn at the back of my eyes. I know what's coming next. I watch helplessly as Rhys pulls on Calen until her arm rips off, and I let out a cry. Who are these boys, and why are they doing this to my doll? Calen never hurt anyone in her life, and now I'm watching as she's getting pulled apart, piece by piece. All I can do is struggle against Cormack's grip, but he's too big for me. He must be at least twice my size. So I stop struggling and instead focus on clinging Cora as tightly as I can to my chest. Calen is already torn to bits, but at least I can try to save Cora. I can't lose them both.

"Hold her!" Cormack orders Rhys. I'm not sure if he's referring to me or to Cora, but it doesn't take long to see he's referring to me. Rhys grabs my shoulders and pulls me into his chest so I'm facing Cormack. I'm not sure what they're doing. I look at Cormack helplessly, and I'm sure I must look scared. I think it only makes him more angry, or maybe more pleased. I can't really tell by the expression on his face. That's when he pulls out the knife from the waistband of his pants. My eyes widen, and I feel my heartbeat increase.

"Please let me go!" I scream. Tears start falling freely down my cheeks as I kick and scream against Rhys. The more I struggle, the tighter his grip gets, but it doesn't keep me from struggling still. I kick and plead and dig my nails into his arm. "Stop! Stop!" I cry as Cormack inches his way towards me with the knife waving in front of him. I don't understand. I just don't understand.

"Tell me, little girl. What's it like living in your little fantasy land?" Cormack's words have some kind of venom laced in them, but I still don't understand. What is he asking? What does he mean?

"Answer him!" Rhys shouts into my ear which causes me to startle.

"I… I don't know." I answer honestly, which must've been the wrong answer. I think I can start to see a vein sticking out in his oversized forehead.

"You don't know anything!" He says angrily as he reaches out and grabs my hand. I try to pull it away, but I can't.

"I don't know what I did!" I scream.

"You exist! You wear these stupid dresses and play with these stupid dolls and live in that stupid big house!" He shouts back, digging his fingers into my wrist so hard that I'm sure it will bruise.

By this point, Cora is no longer in my hands. I'm not even sure when I dropped her or if anyone else even noticed. I have other things on my mind. Like that knife that is getting dangerously close to me. I continue to struggle and continue to fail. I almost forget that anyone else is there before I hear Bennett's voice coming from behind me.

"Cormack, what are you doing?" He asks. He sounds as confused as I feel.

"Shut up, Bennett!" Rhys shouts at him and Cormack just seems to ignore him. Those crazy eyes are completely focused on me.

"Tell me, little girl…. do you bleed like the rest of us?" Cormack asks through gritted teeth.

I hardly have time to process what is going on before I feel a sharp pain digging into my hand. I scream, of course. I scream and cry and beg him to stop, but the pain goes from the palm of my hand up into the tip of my middle finger. Before I look to see the blood, I can feel it squishing in-between all of my fingers, and even the smallest movement sends shooting pains up through my entire arm. I feel as if it's on fire. I know it's not, but it's what it feels like. Cormack laughs. Someone else gasps. I can't tell if it's Bennett or the other boy I don't know, and I don't particularly care.

My legs give out, but Rhys holds up all of my weight, which really isn't so hard. I'm not very big. I must feel like a sack of potatoes in his arms. I'm just crying and waiting for this to be over because it's unbearably painful. I still haven't brought myself to look at my hand for the fear of getting sick at the sight of blood. I know it must be a lot because I feel a steady stream of it dripping off of my fingertips. I'm waiting. Just waiting.

"I don't care if you bleed. You'll never be one of us." Cormack's voice is so angry, so full of hatred for reasons that I still don't know.

He wipes the blade of the knife against my dress before he shoves it back into the waist of his pants. I feel relieved knowing that the knife is put aside and pray that I'll never have to feel the pain a knife can bring ever again. It's too much. I start to cough from all of the crying. My cheeks are puffy and red. I can tell without even looking at my reflection.

"Let's go." Cormack orders the other boys. Before he leaves, he grabs my face, though. He makes me look at him before he speaks. "Tell anyone about this and see what happens."

It's a threat and one that I don't need to hear the outcome. I already know that I'll take this to my grave. Getting cut in the hand is bad enough. I'll leave it with that and not risk getting cut anywhere deeper. My lips are sealed, and I think he knows this. He doesn't say anything else. He just walks away from me. Bennett and the other boy follow behind him. Then Rhys does too. I can tell when Rhys leaves because he's the only reason I was on my feet. As soon as he lets go of me, I fall to the ground, and my face hits the dirt on the impact.

I just lie there. I don't know what else to do. I'm still crying. How could I not be? I'm scared, and I'm hurt. I use all of my energy to close my hand into a fist into the fabric of my dress in the hopes of stopping the bleeding. It hurts. It really hurts. I can't really feel my middle finger, but that's okay because the alternative is it hurting. I'd rather not feel it. I can feel my palm as plain as day. It still feels like it's on fire, and I can feel the blood soaking through my dress and reaching the skin on my stomach.

Daddy was right. I shouldn't have been so far from home. It makes sense now. He knew people like Cormack existed, but I didn't. Turns out, I'm learning the hard way about how cruel people can be. I don't know if I'll ever understand how someone could be filled with so much hatred towards someone they don't know. I rack my brain to think if there's anything I possibly could've done to deserve this treatment. There's nothing.

Despite the throbbing in my hand, I manage to use my good hand to help lift myself up off of the ground. I can feel pieces of dirt caked on to my tear stained face. My hair must look a horrid mess. My white dress is covered in blood. There's nothing presentable about me, and I'm already trying to figure out what I'm going to tell daddy. Mom probably won't even notice, so I don't think much about her, in general, but even now, I wonder if she'd ever care that this happened to me. I think deep down she would, but I don't think she knows how to show it.

I'm still sitting on the ground when I reach for the torn pieces of Calen and start crying even harder. My poor, sweet Calen who had nothing to do with this. My Calen who was made to look like a spitting image of my Aunt Maysilee. I sometimes like to pretend that Calen is her so that I can talk to her, but now what am I going to do? I could learn how to sew. How hard could it be, really?

I pull the hem of my dress up enough to turn it into a makeshift sack where I can keep Calen and Cora. I can't really carry them with just my one good hand. I don't want to use my hurt hand because I want to keep the blood on my dolls to a minimum. I pull myself from the ground and begin walking back in the direction of home. It's a good thing my feet know the way because my mind is confused. I'm not sure if it's because of the hot sun beating down on me or the loss of blood in my left hand. I'm guessing it must be a combination thereof. All I know is that I need to get home. _I desperately need to get home._

This is when I wake up. I sit up so quickly in bed and let out a gasp for air at the same time. I can feel my heart pounding restlessly against my chest, but I know it will slow down soon now that I realize it was just a dream.

"Just a dream…" I repeat out loud. But I lift up my left hand and can still see the puffy pink skin where my scar is, even in the darkness of my room. I use my right hand to trace my fingertip over the smoothness of my scar and know that I'll always have this as a reminder. "If only…"


	2. Chapter One

**CHAPTER ONE  
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A branch snaps beneath my feet, and I quickly shoot an apologetic look to my hunting partner. It's no use, of course. He's already scowling at me and mouthing something that I'm sure is unkind so I purposely look away. I'm almost positive he thinks I'm more trouble than I'm worth, and with that, I'd have to agree. In fact, I'm really not even sure why he insists on me joining these little hunting adventures of his. Maybe it's because he's lonely and wants someone with him, and he was forced to settle with me now that Katniss isn't an option.

I feel a pang of sadness at the mere thought of Katniss and knowing that she would be doing so much better here. Everyone would be doing better if she were here. I know he misses her, but he purposely doesn't talk about real things with me. Whenever I try to bring her up, he tells me to be quiet before I scare away the game. I still don't really know what I'm doing here.

For the short amount of time Katniss was home, she took me out here into the woods with her in an attempt to teach me how to hunt. I was useless. Really, I was. I still am. I know it. He knows it. The only thing I can do right is keep a lookout. I have quick eyes and can usually catch sight of things before he can, but he always has to be the one to kill it. I can never bear the thought of taking the life of anything even if it is meant to give us food.

Generally, I'm good at staying light on my feet and going about undetected, but judging by my performance today, you'd never guess it. I think I'm still distracted by my dream that forced me awake before the sun rose this morning, or nightmare more appropriately. All I've done is scare away the animals by my constant stepping on twigs or tripping over tree roots. It won't be long before I get scolded verbally.

By the time the late morning sun is starting to peek through the tops of the trees, we've settled against a group of rocks. He hands me part of the loaf of bread that we packed this morning. Of course, he hands me the smaller piece and takes the bigger one. This isn't shocking. I know better than to complain even though my stomach is growling uncomfortably at the lack of food from the morning.

As I start to nibble on my bread, I look over at him. Gale Hawthorne. The boy from the Seam who undoubtedly only puts up with me because he feels obligated. I'm not sure why. He's the one who approached me one day after he handed over dad's strawberries. I remember he had suggested I come with him the next morning, and I stupidly agreed. If I had known I'd be roped into doing this every morning, I'm not sure I would've.

It's not that I hate it. I always managed to have a decent time when I was with Katniss out here. It's mainly Gale. He's not as understanding as Katniss was. He never really notices when I do something well, but he sure does like to point it out if I do something wrong. He's obviously annoyed with my company but then continuously insists on me coming with him. I don't know if I'll ever understand his logic. I don't even know if he understands it.

I try to stay quiet and just do as I'm told. Arguing with Gale is pointless. I imagine it must be similar to someone trying to argue with a tree. How is it that he and Katniss could be so similar yet so different? I think that must be the reason I continue this. I come out here day after day. I feel obligated in the same way that maybe he feels obligated. Like we somehow owe this to each other and to Katniss even though neither of us can explain why. At least I certainly can't explain why. Maybe he could if he didn't spend so much energy purposely ignoring me.

Dad would be scared if he knew where I was sneaking off to every morning. He thinks I've been sneaking off with Gale to do other things. I can tell by the way he grins and always says, "have fun, you kids." He's never actually come right out and asked me if Gale and I are more than just friends. He's a dad. He tries to avoid those topics. The thought seems to put him in a cheery mood though, so I never have the heart to tell him that Gale and I will never be more than friends. In fact, I don't even think we qualify as friends. Maybe the better word is allies.

"You need to focus." Gale's voice is steady and hard, and he doesn't even bother looking at me as he speaks.

"I'm sorry." And I am sorry. I know I'm making things harder today.

"Don't apologize. Just fix it." Gale says.

It's easier said than done, but I manage to pull my mind away from my dream long enough to help with the hunt. By the middle of the afternoon, we've got our sack filled with a few rabbits and even more squirrels. I can tell Gale is satisfied because he's no longer scowling at me, but he still never utters so much as a "thank you." I'm not sure if he's already forgotten that I'm the one who spotted two of those rabbits and four of those squirrels or if he's just too proud to admit that I was helpful. It's just a typical day for us. An endless cycle that neither of us can seem to escape.

On our walk back towards home, we pass by the edge of the creek where I sometimes like to wash my hands of the filth I've collected during any given day. It surprises me to see Gale stopping off before I even have to make the request verbally. Maybe he's getting used to me after all. He's already hopped off the small grassy ledge into the rocks by the water before I can even reach him. What happens next really surprises me. When I reach the edge next to him, he holds out his hand for me in what I can only assume is an attempt to help me down. I look down at him curiously. I'm expecting some sort of snide comment about how I'm too dainty or meek to help myself down or about how he wouldn't want me to ruin my pretty clothes. Shockingly, no insults come. I have no other choice but to reach out and grab a hold of his hand as he helps me down onto the rocks by the water.

The moment passes almost as quickly as it appears, and I'm not left with much time to dwell on it. Instead I bend down and rest most of my weight on my knees as I let my hands slip into the cool water. It feels so refreshing that I close my eyes and really let myself enjoy it. I don't entirely mind getting my hands dirty, but I prefer when they're clean. In my home, it was always common courtesy to keep yourself clean and presentable. I can't seem to shake the habit even when I'm out here in the woods where only Gale can see me. I have an affinity for decorum. I start to think that despite what I was told by Katniss, Effie and I would get along quite swimmingly. The thought of such a thing makes me laugh.

"What's so funny?" Gale asks curiously. He's not accustomed to hearing me laugh, so I'm not surprised with the strange look he's giving me.

"I was just thinking about Buttercup. I wonder how long we'll make it this time before he's nipping at your feet." It's a lie. That's not what I was thinking of, but I try not to bring up anything Capitol related while around Gale. The answer I gave seems to please him enough because I look up from my position on the ground, and he's not scowling at me.

"I hate that cat." Gale says, but his tone isn't as serious as it was earlier.

"I think the feeling is mutual." I say.

"Prim sure seems to love him, though." Gale barely smiles, but I can just see the very edges of his lips tilting up.

"She loves you too. It's why you and he tolerate each other." I can't help but think this is very similar to my relationship with Gale. We tolerate each other because we both care for Katniss. I don't tell him this, of course. I leave those thoughts for myself.

The smile that was there a moment ago seems to have faltered, and I'm back to looking up at the same harsh boy that is so critical of anyone who grew up outside of the Seam. He must've realized he was being uncharacteristically friendly with me. With a slight frown, I look back down at my hands in the shallow water, and I use my thumb to finish wiping the remaining dirt from my palm. I take comfort in the fact that soon I will be with Prim. If anything or anyone can make all traces of my dream go away, it will be her. But first, I must get through the rest of the trek back with Gale, and that might be the biggest challenge I've faced all day.


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

The look on Prim's face when she opens the front door can only be described as excited despite everything that's going on. Gale's typical stern features soften, and I watch as he picks her up with his free arm that isn't holding the sack of dead animals and pulls her into a hug. I only ever see this affectionate side of Gale when he's around Prim, and I find myself appreciating him more for that. It's reassurance that he's not as completely heartless as he often appears to be. However, when Mrs. Everdeen appears behind Prim, Gale's typical, rough features return. There's no doubt that he sees Mrs. Everdeen as family, but he seems to be harder on her than he ought to be. From what I can see, she has made great improvements in her general disposition, unlike my own mother. At least Mrs. Everdeen is trying. In fact, I rather like her and am comforted by her presence. As I think this, she reaches out and pulls what looks like a leaf out of my messy hair with a maternal touch, and I smile at her - a genuine smile.

Prim wiggles herself out of Gale's arms, and I take this opportunity to wrap my arm around her shoulder and kiss the top of her head. We exchange hellos as Gale starts digging through the sack he had slung over his shoulder a second ago. We always agree that the distribution of what we catch will go to our families before we attempt to trade, and with our families, we include the Everdeens and Mellarks. It was a challenge getting Gale to include the Mellarks in our distribution, but I remember laying a pretty thick guilt trip on him about what Katniss would want. I think he holds an unfair grudge against Peeta's family. When it comes right down to it, he holds an unfair grudge against most people. Like me, for example.

Needless to say, we both always agree on the proportions we end up giving to the Everdeens. Since Katniss won the 74th Hunger Games, there's not really a whole lot that the Everdeens need, but that doesn't change Gale's obligation. He has taken over the role of the family protector for them, especially now that Katniss isn't here to do it. From what I can tell, he takes satisfaction in knowing that he has this role, and he wouldn't want anyone else to have it. He wants to be the one to bring them meat and provide for them and make sure they're healthy and safe. Ironic considering he's worse off than they are. Then there's me. I'm far from a protector. I'd never last out there in the woods on my own, and Gale is constantly reminding me of that. But I wouldn't want people to mistake that with me needing to be protected either. I'm starting to think I'm more like Prim in this way. We are both strong, but the kind of strength we possess is often overlooked. Unlike Gale and Katniss, we don't let our feelings or tempers get in the way of what needs to be done.

"Look what Mr. Mellark brought us." Prim wiggles her way past her mom and leads us farther into the kitchen. Right there in the middle of the kitchen table is a very delicious looking cake. It isn't decorated as beautifully as it would be if Peeta were here, but it looks like Mr. Mellark really tried to make it special. The frosting is a striking color blue, and it's lined with silver stars and what I can only assume is supposed to be a moon. In our district, it's not often we can see the stars in the sky, but when we do, this is what it looks like.

"It's beautiful." I say honestly. Prim and I exchange smiles. "What's the occasion?"

"Well…" Prim hesitates as she glances at Gale. I already know the answer will somehow have to do with the Games because she's like me in the sense that she doesn't like talking about them in front of Gale. Prim looks back at me before she continues. "Katniss and Peeta both got the highest scores from the Gamemakers." Both Prim and I look at Gale. He keeps a straight face, but Prim continues delicately. "Mr. Mellark thinks Peeta did so well because of Katniss." It makes me sad to think that Mr. Mellark has so much faith in Katniss and not as much in Peeta. He's such a sweet man that I can't find it in me to hold it against him, though.

I don't watch the Games often because I don't have the heart for it, but I do watch the opening ceremonies intently enough. Most of the recaps from this morning focused on exactly what Prim is speaking about. It's clear that the District 12 tributes are a force to be reckoned with. This makes me both happy and sad at the same time. While it's reassuring to know they're both being taken seriously, it's also a sure sign that they'll be on everyone's hit list. It was a fluke that they both lived the first time around, and everyone knows President Snow won't allow it to happen again. This can only end with one or both of them dead, but I quickly try to shake those thoughts from my head and focus back on the cake.

"Well, he might be right." Gale says. "Katniss is bossy enough that Peeta didn't have much of a choice."

For a moment, I can't tell if Gale is being serious. It's not until Prim starts giggling that I realize this was his attempt at humor. Mrs. Everdeen and I laugh along in spite of ourselves, and for the first time since I've known Gale, he actually looks like he's enjoying himself. I'm thinking he might be really excited at the prospect of eating cake. Even I don't get cake that often other than special occasions like my birthday.

This isn't going to last. We all know it, but for right now, in this moment, it's okay for us to laugh. It's okay for us to have an afternoon of talking and eating and pretending like this is normal. It's even okay for Gale and I to act like we're more than just allies- like we're friends. Tomorrow will be harder again. We'll all watch with baited breath, wondering if Katniss and Peeta will make it another day, but right now, I think we could all use some cake.

By the time Gale and I are leaving the Everdeens, the sun has long since gone down, and we decide to wait until tomorrow to deliver the rest of the food to the Mellarks. Our moods are still surprisingly good, and we manage to stay friendly on the walk back to my house.

"So then he says, 'I bet you my girlfriend that you can't make that shot.' And sure enough…" Gale trails off, laughing.

"No, you didn't! You made it?" I say with wide eyes, but I'm laughing as I speak. "Was his girlfriend aware of this bet?"

"Nah, but I made sure to tell her the next day at school. She slapped him." He says as his chuckling starts to subside.

"Rightly so." I shake my head. "I'd be mortified if I was ever used as a betting piece in a throwing contest." Though the thought is pretty funny, and it makes for an excellent story, clearly. Was this what it was like to have friends? Making silly bets and laughing about it later…

"Don't worry, I won't-" Gale is interrupted mid-sentence when my dad opens the front door, and we're standing at the bottom of the stairs leading up to it. The look on his face is serious, and I can feel all traces of laughter disappear from me. Gale and I exchange glances before we both look back up at my dad.

"Madge, come inside. There's something we need to talk about." It isn't a request. It's a demand. I can feel my heart starting to beat a little bit faster as he disappears back into the house with the front door still cracked open for me.

"Thanks for walking me home." I say to Gale before I turn away from him and let my feet carry me quickly up the steps leading to my front door.

"Hey Madge." Gale's voice causes me stop at the top of the stairs, and I turn to look down at him. "See you tomorrow." He sounds worried, and I wonder if_ see you tomorrow_ is really what he was planning on saying or if he wanted to ask what was going on. Not that I'd be able to tell him anyway because I don't know what's going on.

"See you tomorrow." I say back with a reassuring smile even though I'm still nervous about the sudden appearance of my father. A few seconds later, and I'm walking inside only to come face to face with someone I don't recognize. Luckily, my dad's there to explain the stranger in our house.

"Madge, this is Errol. He's the son of an old… friend of mine." Dad looks at me and nods. Judging by the way he just said "friend," I'm guessing whoever this is, dad wasn't actually friends with his dad. It sounds more like he's only obligated to say it, which seems strange to me. "He's traveled here from the Capitol. He'll be staying with us, and I expect you to be accommodating to our guest."

All I want to do is scream, but I keep my feet planted firmly on the ground. My expression must be unreadable because dad looks slightly concerned. To make him feel better, I reach my hand out to Errol, and we shake hands cordially. At least, I'm cordial. After we shake, he wipes his hand on his pants like I'm somehow contagious.

"Welcome to District 12, Errol."

This completely masks all other things about today. Just moments ago, I was laughing with Gale, and before that, we were eating cake until our mouths turned blue from the frosting. Today should have been impossible to ruin, but here I am with a man from the Capitol standing in my front hallway and no idea why. Where's Gale when I need him


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

The night is spent tossing and turning, and it seems every time I close my eyes, I can't get the image of Errol out of my mind. In order to avoid that, I just stay awake mostly. It gets too hot, and I kick my comforter off. It gets too cold, and I cover myself again. It gets too quiet, it gets too loud. It's excuse after excuse after excuse, and by the time the sun barely starts peaking out from behind the trees, I finally just pull myself out of bed. Trying to sleep is pointless. All I want to do is find Gale and fill him in on the latest development here, but I'm sure he's already left for work. I'll have to find something else to do to occupy my time until this evening when he gets back from the mines. With a sigh, I slip out of my bedroom and tiptoe down the hall as not to wake my parents or our Capitol guest. When I tiptoe past the guest bedroom, I can't help but scowl. There's something off about this. He's not the son of an old friend, and if dad thinks I'm naive enough to believe that, he really doesn't know me at all. Until I can figure this out, I'll just mentally refer to him as our _Capitol spy_.

District 12 came under scrutiny when Peeta and Katniss came back initially, but since they left again, it's been mostly back to normal. Back to us being overlooked. It's apparent that President Snow has a particular disdain for the District 12 tributes, but they're not here. So why the sudden appearance of Errol, the Capitol spy? It makes me nervous to think that some new plan is in motion that we're all unaware of. It makes me even more nervous that he's sleeping under the same roof as my family. I don't like it, but there's nothing I can do but smile and be polite.

When I reach the bottom of the stairs and round the corner into the kitchen, I let out a small yelp as I catch sight of a person standing by the window. My heart feels like it completely just stopped, but once I actually look at the person, I see it's Errol running the water from the faucet over his hands.

"I didn't mean to startle you." He tells me. I watch as he turns off the faucet and wipes his wet hands on our dish towel.

"I thought everyone was sleeping." I try to sound as normal as possible despite my heart still pounding against my chest.

"So did I." He replies simply. Fair enough.

Suddenly, I realize I'm still in my night clothes, and I feel a blush creeping onto my cheeks. It's just simple white silk pants and a white silk shirt, but it's still obvious that they're night clothes. Maybe he won't notice. Men don't notice these things as easily as women do.

"I didn't know anyone in District 12 could afford any clothes like that, let alone clothes just used for sleeping." Yes, he notices. I feel uncomfortable, but I stand my ground.

"Most can't." I reply, pretending to be unfazed by his insult of my district. In all honesty, it's not even really pretending. I am unfazed by it. I get it from both sides. People in my own district hate me for having too much money, and people outside of my district hate me for not having enough money. Errol is no different. He just happens to be on the other side of the poverty fence.

"Is it still too early for breakfast?" He asks, his voice a little less judgmental now.

"No." I tell him as I walk over to the refrigerator. "Do you like strawberries?" I hope his answer is yes because that's easily what we eat the most around here.

"I do." He replies.

An awkward silence fills the air, and Errol walks to the kitchen table to sit down. Meanwhile, I'm pulling the whipped butter and strawberry jam out of the refrigerator. This is my typical breakfast. Strawberry and butter toast with a side of yogurt and some tea. Dad wants me to be accommodating, so here I am, making breakfast for the Capitol spy. I shake those thoughts from my head and fill our tea kettle with water before I set it on the heated stove.

Eating the breakfast is no different than making it. The same awkward silence is palpable as we avoid eye contact even though we're sitting so near to each other. There's nothing I need to say to him, and I'm sure the feeling is mutual. He must hate this as much as I do. No doubt someone of higher ranking forced him to come here. Though if they really want to get an inside look of what's going on in the districts, staying in the mayor's house can't possibly be the best idea for that. People avoid us. People have always avoided us.

Errol excuses himself from the table shortly after breakfast, and I'm left with nothing but my thoughts and the dirty dishes to clean up before dad wakes. There's not much dad notices, but if he sees a mess anywhere within these walls, you'd think the world was coming to an end. Even as a child, I never left my toys sitting around. Everything was spotless. Some things never change. I'm only half paying attention when I run the hot water and soap over our plates and tea glasses. Mostly, I'm just thinking about Errol and Gale and Katniss and Peeta. The Games are going on right now, but I can't bring myself to watch them. I'll never get enjoyment out of watching children die… watching _my friends _die.

My mind wanders, and I try to imagine a life without Katniss. Without Peeta. Everyone would suffer without them. Mr. Mellark is such a kind man that it hurts my heart to imagine him losing his youngest son. Then there's Katniss. Everything about me aches to imagine losing her. She's my only friend. She's always been my only friend. She's the hunter that keeps our district going in particularly troubled times. She's the protector of her family. No matter how hard Gale would try to keep going, there's no one that can truly replace Katniss in Mrs. Everdeen and Prim's eyes. She's it for them. She's it for Gale. No one would recover. I believe this wholeheartedly. Despite my admiration and adoration of Peeta, I can't help but wish that Katniss is the one who comes out of this.

Those thoughts start to make me feel sick to my stomach, so I try as best as I can to push them away. I finish drying off the last of the dishes and put them away back in the cupboards. I glance outside to see the sun, and I frown to see it isn't high in the sky at all. I've sufficiently only passed an hour of my time, and I have about eleven more to go before Gale will get home from the mines. This is the first time I actively wish to see him. Up until now, I've enjoyed my time away from him and haven't necessarily looked forward to our Sundays, which is the only day he has off from work.

I know I'll have to find other ways to occupy my time, so I spend most of the day keeping myself busy enough. I wash my clothes, I dust my bed frame and dresser, I prepare a beef and noodle casserole to keep in the refrigerator until dinner, and of course, I play the piano. All other thoughts slip from my mind entirely as my fingers lightly touch the ivory keys. My eyes remain closed, and I play from memory a song that sounds more joyful than I feel. It helps lift my spirits for those few minutes that I play it. I'm so lost in the sound that I don't notice the footsteps coming up behind me.

"Madge." It's my mother's voice. I'm shocked to hear it, and I stop playing immediately so I can spin around on my stool to face her.

"Mom. What are you doing out of your room?" I ask simply enough, but I am worried about her. She rarely emerges from her room, and even then, she never comes to my room.

"Who is the traitor in my home?" Her words shock me even more than her presence, and I quickly stand from the stool until my face is only inches from hers.

"Mom, you can't say that so loud." I glance around to make sure we're alone.

"He killed your Aunt Maysilee." Her voice is louder this time, and I feel a new set of nerves take over. Is she trying to get us killed for treason?

"No, he didn't." I quickly tell her. Errol is barely an adult. If I had to guess, I'd say he's in his early twenties. He wasn't born yet when Aunt Maysilee died, and even now, he clearly has nothing to do with the actual Games or he'd be in the Capitol right now.

"Yes, he did! He killed my sister!" This time, she practically screams it, and the only thing I can think to do is cover her mouth with my hand.

"Listen. Listen to me!" I keep my voice calm enough, but I'm so nervous that I can feel sweat already starting to form on my brow. "He's just a child, mom. Barely older than me. He did not kill your sister."

My words don't seem to satisfy her at all, and the only thing I get out of this is a hard bight on my hand that's covering her mouth. I quickly pull my hand away and look at her with such a puzzling expression. As if that isn't shameful enough, she then proceeds to spit in my face. I'm half embarrassed and half angry, and I can't decide which way to feel.

"You're a traitor too." Her words are laced with such a venom that I can't even believe this is my mother speaking to me. She's taken too much of her medicine to numb the pain in her head, so she's not thinking clearly. That doesn't particularly make me feel any better, though. There are many things I'd like to say to her. I'd like to tell her that she's crazy and that she's a terrible mother and that she's made my life worse… not better. However, I keep my mouth shut and remain calm. Remaining calm is what I'm good at. It's my advantage over others who get so overly excitable and angry. With a calm demeanor, I keep a clear mind. With a clear mind, I can't get myself into trouble.

All I can do is stare after my mother as she leaves my room silently and heads back down the hallway towards her own room. As soon as she's out of sight, I finally let myself swallow back the lump in my throat and force the tears to stay inside. Why am I being called the traitor? Dad's the one who brought him here. Dad's the one who insisted Errol is a guest. Sometimes I wonder if dad and I would be better off without mom. I know it's a horrible thought, but I can't help it when it races through my mind. I decide I need to get out and completely clear my mind of this. Things never seem to go according to plan, though. I'm barely at the bottom of the stairs before I hear Errol's voice coming from our living room.

"Don't go too far." He calls to me. "I'd like to see the rest of the merchant section. You'll accompany me." He certainly is lacking in etiquette. There's no please or thank you. It's a command, and I don't have a choice.

"Of course. Let me get my coat." I nod politely before I turn on my heel and disappear back up the stairs. It's not until I reach my bedroom and the door is closed securely behind me that I make a face of disgust. Everyone in this town already dislikes me. Being seen fraternizing with someone from the Capitol will only add fuel to the fire. Clearly, my mother already thinks I'm a traitor. What will strangers think?

Sure enough, I'm right. The rest of the afternoon is spent walking with him on intricate paths and trying to avoid eye contact with people I recognize. Anytime I do manage to sneak looks at people, they're looking at me as if I've just murdered their dog. I can't even disguise what's going on because of his obviously absurd Capitol fashion, so this is what everyone has to go by. Madge Undersee with a man from the Capitol. I begin to wonder how things could possibly get any worse. As if on cue, we round the corner that leads back to my house, and I see Gale sitting at the bottom of the stairs below my front door. I momentarily wonder if there's a way to avoid this, but it's too late. Gale sees me. I quickly try to think of the best way to approach this without any tempers flaring or hot headed words exchanged, but knowing Gale, I'm not holding my breath. He stands from the stairs as we reach him.

"Errol, this is my friend Gale." I speak in my typical cordial manner as if this introduction is completely normal. "Gale, this is an old friend of my father's.


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

Things are different now. Since Gale met Errol, he's been back to the Gale I originally tried to avoid. It seems as if those couple of days when we actually became friendly with each other just vanished. It's back to being a chore. This upsets me more than it should, and if anything, I'm angry with myself for lying awake in bed and letting it keep me from slumber. What right does he have to be frustrated with me for this? I didn't invite Errol to stay here. He's not my best friend. We don't stay up late sharing stories. The thought of such a thing is absurd. I can't help but sigh in disappointment when I step outside my front door to meet Gale at the bottom of the stairs. Right in the spot where I was forced to introduce him with the Capitol spy. We don't smile at each other. We only exchange equally unemotional glances by the time I meet him on the last stair. He looks just as cantankerous as ever. I'm beginning to think us being near each other is bad for both of our health.

"Is that all of it?" Gale asks as he motions his head towards the cloth bag in my hand.

"Yes." I respond simply. It's our strawberry collection. The previous morning we had agreed to take them to the Mellarks to see what we can get for it. That's our only option now that the Hob no longer exists. I know dad is going to be disappointed when he finds out he can't have his strawberries for another four or five days until we get a chance to go back out. Truth be told, we need the money, though. Or at least Gale does. Obviously he still can't seem to admit that I'm doing him a favor. He has too much pride for that. I know better than to verbally complain about it, so I keep my thoughts to myself. We walk silently through the streets. Completely silently. The silence isn't the awkward silence I share with Errol when we're in the same room at home. It's just silence. The kind of silence where it's not necessary to speak, and we're both fine with that. In fact, I prefer this. At least if he's silent, he can't make any degrading comments. I'll take what I can get. It's not until we reach the Mellarks that Gale finally speaks.

"We need enough to get the fever reducer for Mrs. Everdeen." He tells me. I already know this, but I nod silently. "Let's make this quick." He gives the front door a couple of quick knocks.

Gale doesn't particularly care for coming here. I don't think he dislikes Mr. Mellark as much as he just feels conflicted. The survival of his son guarantees the death of Katniss. It's no secret who Gale is rooting for. I imagine he'll let me do the talking as he always does with Mr. Mellark. Even Mrs. Mellark seems to have a fondness of me. Gale can't understand why. Maybe if he had an ounce of decorum in him, Mrs. Mellark would like him too.

"Madge." Mr. Mellark's voice has a certain warmth to it, and I find myself smiling.

"Good evening, Mr. Mellark." I try to match his warm voice. Partly because I do, indeed, like the man, and partly because I know I'll have to make up for Gale's gruff voice whenever he decides to speak up.

"Hi Gale." Mr. Mellark is always friendly with Gale. I think Gale tries to be friendly back, but it doesn't really work.

"Hi." He nods matter-of-factly.

"What brings you here?" Mr. Mellark asks me.

"Strawberries." I hold up the bag in my hands with a smile. "You and Mrs. Mellark make excellent strawberry pastries. We were hoping we could sell you some."

"You can take a look. They're all ripe." Gale adds.

"No, no, I trust you." Mr. Mellark shakes his head. He moves out of the door frame and motions for us to come in. I take a step forward, but Gale reaches his arm out in front of me to stop me.

"We're in a hurry." He says simply like he's not being rude. The sad thing is I don't even think he realizes that he's being rude. This is just him.

"Oh, right." Mr. Mellark nods. "Well, how much do you need for them?"

"We need to buy a new fever reducer for Mrs. Everdeen. She ran out after…" I trail off and motion my head towards Gale. Everyone around the District knows about the whipping incident. I can tell Mr. Mellark immediately knows what I'm referring to. I quickly glance at Gale just long enough to see him scowling at me. He doesn't like my honesty. He thinks it's unnecessary for Mr. Mellark to know what we need, but I think if he knows, he's more likely to help us out. Despite what Gale thinks, people here are still generally good.

"That's a fair price." He nods. "I'll be right back. Hold tight."

Mr. Mellark disappears inside, and as soon as he's gone, Gale and I turn to face each other. He's still scowling at me, but I refuse to scowl back. I won't let him get to me. He should know this by now, but sometimes I think he tries looking for fights.

"It's none of his business what we need the money for." Gale says, confirming my initial suspicion about what he was thinking. I know him better than I ought to.

"He's fond of Mrs. Everdeen. I knew he'd help us if we told him." I say. "If you had wanted it differently, you should've done the talking."

"He doesn't want to hear what I have to say. He likes you. I can't imagine why, but he does." There's the insulting Gale I know. I try to pretend to not care about his blatant insult.

"Maybe if you gave him a chance, he _would_ want to hear what you have to say. Until then, I don't blame him." I shrug and turn away from him to face the door again. I decide I no longer wish to talk to him. I just want to sell the strawberries, buy the medicine, and go home. I'll let Gale take the medicine to Mrs. Everdeen. The last time I was there, we had such a lovely time with cake and laughter that I'd rather not ruin that memory with Gale condescending me in front of them. Perhaps I'll go home and stay up late sharing stories with the Capitol spy. The thought alone makes me laugh. Luckily, Mr. Mellark appears back at the door before Gale can ask me what's so funny.

"This should cover it." Mr. Mellark hands over the money to Gale, and in turn, I hand him the bag of strawberries. Before I have much time to thank him, Gale is already walking away. However, I hesitate at the door instead.

"Maybe when Peeta comes home, the strawberries will still be ripe." I don't necessarily believe that Peeta will come home. Actually, I think Peeta would risk himself in order to make sure Katniss is the one to come home. None-the-less, it can't hurt for Mr. Mellark to hear the possibility of Peeta coming home… and soon enough that he could still enjoy the strawberries too. "Give my best to Mrs. Mellark." I start to turn to leave, but Mr. Mellark's voice stops me.

"I like you because you're kind. Even to those who don't deserve it." He tells me as he looks in the distance towards Gale. I suddenly feel my cheeks blushing. He heard what Gale said to me. I agree with him that Gale doesn't particularly deserve my kindness, but I still feel embarrassed that he heard. All I can do is smile at him with my rosy cheeks before I turn to follow after Gale. It's the first time anyone has told me that I'm kind. I can't help but feel good about it. Most people dislike me, so it's nice to have someone on my side.

My feet carry me quickly, and I'm practically jogging to catch up to Gale. When I reach him, he's counting the money as he walks. He's shaking his head, and he begins to recount.

"What is it?" I ask him as my legs match his pace and long stride.

"It's too much." He says as he begins to count it again. "He's given us enough for three bottles."

"Are you surprised?" I ask.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I…" He begins but stops himself, and he lets out a huff. "I don't know."

I'm satisfied with his response. The look on his face is enough to see that he's questioning my tactic and his own attitude. He knows I'm right. I'm sure he won't admit it, but I can tell he's thinking hard about it. There's really no reason for either of us to dwell, and we certainly don't. The silence fills the air again, and I'm quite comfortable with it. My mood is better as Mr. Mellark's words ring through my mind over and over again. _I like you because you're kind._ If only everyone wasn't so blinded by my status, I think I'd have a lot more people like Mr. Mellark in my life. The thought amuses me, and I'm smiling idly as I follow Gale through the streets to the apothecary. Once we get there, I stand in the background and let Gale take the reigns on this. The owner doesn't particularly care for me, so I try to avoid eye contact as I glance around the storefront. I can vaguely hear Gale trying to make a deal, but it's rude to eavesdrop, so I'll simply wait for him to be finished so he can tell me himself what deal was made.

We're stuck there a lot longer than we were at the Mellarks, and by the time we walk back outside, the sun has long since gone down. The chill in the air causes a set of shivers to run down my body, but I adjust relatively quickly. Gale insists on walking me home since it's dark. He'll drop off the supplies for Mrs. Everdeen after I've made it safely home. I still can't figure out why he feels the need to walk with me, but somehow, it makes my stomach twist into knots. He managed to make a deal for not only a bottle of the fever reducer but also for a muscle relaxation, a disinfectant, and a package of bandaging. Mr. Mellark really helped us out on this one, and Gale even admitted it when we first started walking back to my house. We're barely at the stairs leading up to my front door when the door swings open, and Errol is standing there, looking rather peeved.

"There you are." Errol calls from the doorway. "I expected you home hours ago."

"She's not a child." Gale calls back before I can speak. Errol glares at Gale, clearly not happy with being talked back to.

"I'm sorry. I lost track of time." I say quickly, trying to rectify the situation. I look over at Gale, and I see him open his mouth to say something else. I reach out and grab a hold of his arm and shoot him a warning glance before he can. For a moment, he and Errol just stare at each other, and I'm helplessly nervous.

"Get inside." Errol finally says before he turns and walks back into the house. Luckily, he closes the door behind him, so I know I have a minute before I really have to get inside. He probably wants me to make him dinner, and he's moody because he's hungry. That's typical for him.

"Are you trying to get us in trouble?" I ask Gale calmly.

"How can you let him speak to you like that?" Gale asks angrily, and I'm amazed he can't find the irony in that. Compared to how Gale sometimes speaks to me, Errol is downright charming.

"It's fine." I say simply, not wanting to argue about this. Gale seems to have other plans because he keeps going.

"It's not fine. Someone has to protect you from that freak." He motions his head towards my house. Something in this makes me snap in ways that I rarely do.

"To _protect _me?" I say angrily. Can he seriously not see the absurdity of what he's saying? The fact that he's so oblivious is making me more angry than anything else. "And I suppose you're my protector, then? Saving me from the big, bad Capitol." I see his jaw tightening at the mere mention of the Capitol. "You stand here and spout out how unfit you think other people are, but take a look at yourself."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He's angry too. We both are now. Clearly, I'll have to spell this out for him.

"You want to protect me from other people, but who's there to protect me from you?" I see the light finally going off in that thick head of his. Momentarily, his expression softens, but then he just looks even more angry. "You treat me horribly! As if I'm somehow nothing but a thorn in your side that you can't get rid of. You insult me to my face in front of other people like I'm not there and like I'm incapable of feeling it. Well, guess what? I can feel it. I can feel all of it. I bleed just like the rest of you!" Before I can stop myself, I have tears in my eyes. All I can think about now is Cormack cutting open my hand and being surprised that I bleed like any other person. "So if you want to protect me from anyone, protect me from _you_."

He doesn't say anything. I can see through my teary eyes enough to see him clenching his jaw, and then he just turns and walks away. He leaves me standing at the bottom of my stairs with a combination of anger and sadness that I rarely feel. I watch him as he walks away, and his figure gets smaller and smaller into the distance. Then he's just gone. I should feel relieved that he's gone, but oddly enough, it still hurts. I silently curse at myself for letting him get a reaction out of me. He had been trying to all day, and up until now, I had done just fine at ignoring him and being calm. I don't know why I snapped, but it's slightly embarrassing. I use the back of my hand to wipe at my teary eyes, and I pull on my cheeks to try to get rid of the red puff in them. When I finally think I'm presentable enough, I turn and head up the stairs towards my front door. It's about time I make dinner for Errol before I get into a second fight for the night


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

I squint against the bright sunlight dancing on my face, and this causes the rest of me to slowly stir into reality. Once the disorientation wears off, I sit up quickly and look around my empty room. I'm surprised to realize that I've slept in late enough that the sun is already up. Based on the angle it's pouring into my room, I'm guessing it's been up for hours. The only thing I can think of is that I must be sick if I've slept this late. I use the back of my hand to press against my forehead, but my skin doesn't feel particularly warm. I swallow, and I notice my throat doesn't hurt. My nose isn't stuffy, my palms aren't sweaty, and I feel no threat of a sneeze coming on. If anything, I should just be relieved that I didn't have another sleepless night and early morning, but all I can do is think it's strange.

Under any other circumstances, I would probably be in a cheery mood. Unfortunately, by the time I'm standing from my bed, my mind syncs with the current state of affairs. It's not just any, normal day. Yesterday was easy enough to ignore because Gale and I had been focusing on getting the supplies for Mrs. Everdeen. Before I went to bed last night, I watched the recap of the interviews. Katniss twirling around on that stage and transforming into the Mockingjay. Needless to say, it was stunning. I can't imagine the Capitol being thrilled with that trick, though, and that's why I feel especially nervous about today. It's day one in the arena. Making enemies with the Capitol and the gamemakers is surely the quickest way to die in there.

As soon I leave my bedroom, I can hear the sound of the television coming from downstairs. It's faint, but it's noticeable. Dad's like me in the sense that he tries to only watch the recaps at the end of the day, so the only explanation for the sound of the television must be Errol. This bothers me, but there's really nothing I can do about it. I hope to sneak out unnoticed, but knowing my luck, Errol will be right there waiting. I'll give him credit for being sneaky. Sometimes I think he must have eyes in the back of his head, which wouldn't be entirely surprising with everything else the Capitol is capable of. I reach the bottom stair, and it creaks beneath my foot. My eyes shut tight, and I stand there, unmoving, in the hopes that maybe he didn't hear me. With my eyes still closed, I'm waiting for him to call out my name. I'm waiting for him to order me to come watch the Games with him. I'm waiting for something. Anything.

When nothing comes, I finally open my eyes and look around curiously. Despite my instincts telling me not to, I can't help but turn the corner to look into the sitting room. The voices aren't coming from the television. The screen is black, and the living room is untouched. The sudden realization that I wasn't hearing the television is enough to cause my heart beat to speed up slightly. My feet tread lightly on the hardwood floor as I tiptoe towards the voices coming from my father's study. Once I get close enough, I can tell who the voices belong to, but I can barely make out what they're saying. It's my father and Errol. Something feels strange. I shouldn't be here.

"It's happening whether you're ready for it or not." Errol says with a certain amount of panic that I feel myself begin to panic as well.

Before I can listen to anymore, I hear another set of footsteps coming down the main stairs. Mom's not exactly subtle. They hear her too because they're instantly quiet, and I try to use this brief moment to sneak away before they can catch me. I think I turn the corner just in time to avoid being seen, and I head right out the front door. Whatever they were talking about isn't good, but I didn't hear enough to really understand it. It's not something I can simply ask dad about later either. It's something I'll need to figure out for myself, but how? The first thing I think to do is go find Gale. If anyone would be interested in what's going on with Errol, it would be him. There are two reasons I can't talk to Gale about it, though. The first being that he's still at work. The second being that I'm still embarrassed about last night. I'm not sure how or why he managed to get such a reaction out of me, but it upsets me that he did.

My afternoon is mostly spent wandering around the District in an attempt to avoid going home. There are so many thoughts running through my mind that my head is pounding before the sun has had a chance to start going back down in the sky. It's not often that I get headaches, and if this is what my mother feels every waking moment, I can't blame her for seeming as distant as she is. How could anyone focus with the steady pounding just below their temple? It's distracting me enough that I don't notice the person in front of me until I walk directly into them. The force is hard enough that I lose the air in my lungs and stumble back a few paces.

"I'm so sorry." I quickly straighten my posture and glance up to see if the other person is okay. What I see causes the air to leave my lungs for a second time. Cormack Holmes. This is exactly how it happened when I was eight. I hadn't been paying attention to where I was going, and I ran right into him. The flashbacks come quickly and fade in and out, and I'm left standing there with no concept of what is happening right now and what is a memory. The scar on my left hand tingles, and every trace of my headache is replaced with fear.

I don't wait around to converse with him or see what he has planned. I turn quickly and stumble away, the combination of my nerves and the bright sun making me feel dizzy. If I can make it home without fainting, it might be a miracle. As I walk along the familiar streets, I occasionally stop to lean against whatever I can find. This is all too much. Maybe everyone is right. Maybe I am weak. As it turns out, I can't handle as much as I thought I could. Gale, Errol, Cormack, Katniss, Peeta. Every one of them is making me weaker for one reason or another, and it's all boiling over now. I'm not even sure where I'm going until I suddenly look up and see where I've ended up. Mr. Delton's vegetable garden. Why would I come here? I must be more disoriented than I originally thought. All I wanted to do earlier was leave home, and now all I want to do is go home. The irony isn't even funny.

Even in my state of confusion, I can hear the sound of a branch snapping quite clearly. I stop stumbling around, and my feet plant themselves firmly into the grass. The sound came from behind me. I'm not sure how far behind me, but I try to keep as quiet as possible and listen. I even hold my breath for the fear that I won't be able to hear over it. Another snapping sound. Closer this time. Cormack has followed me. No one else would be here. I want to scream and run away, but I'm frozen in place. Frozen out of fear. I haven't been this scared since the last time I came face to face with Cormack. I had almost forgotten how horrible this feeling is. Helpless. That's what I am.

Through my hazy eyes, I see a rock at my feet that might just be big enough to do some damage and buy me time to run. That is if my feet start working again. I move slowly, not wanting Cormack to see me going for the rock. I try to play it off like I'm simply tying my shoe and am completely unaware of his presence creeping up behind me. Once I've bent down, I grip the rock in between my fingers and hold onto it tightly. I'm waiting for the perfect moment. If I swing and miss, it's game over. He's close enough now that I can hear his footsteps lightly treading the grass behind me. I'd guess he's about six steps away. Five steps. Four steps. Three steps. Two steps…

In one quick movement, I push myself off the ground and swing the rock as hard as I can. It works because not only can I feel the rock connecting with his temple, but I can hear it make a loud cracking sound. A sound of pain and a slew of curses escape from his lips, and it's only then that I realize that's not Cormack's voice.

"Oh no…" The rock slips out of my hands and lands with a thud on the grass. "Gale!" I lunge forward as he stumbles backwards, and I grab his arm to keep him steady. I no longer feel dizzy, but I think he might be feeling it now.

"I guess I deserved that." Gale says. He's actually got a strange grin on his face. Why? This isn't funny. This is anything but funny.

"I thought you were someone else." A steady trickle of blood is falling down the side of his face from just above his hairline where I hit him, and I look around helplessly for something. For anything. The only thing I can think to do is untie the ribbon from around my waist and use it to try to stop the blood. I press it down against his head and try not to blink when he groans in pain. "What are you doing here?"

"I was on my way home from the mines. I saw you back in the square. Called your name, but I guess you didn't hear me." He tells me. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? I just hit you in the head with a rock, Gale!" If anyone should be sorry here, it's me. This is the first time I've ever heard Gale apologize for anything, but it's so misdirected that I think he must not know what he's saying.

"I mean for last night." He adds. Under normal circumstances, I would probably be a combination of floored and touched by his apology, but I'm too focused on him to give it much thought.

"It's alright." I reassure him as I press down harder on the material of my ribbon. It's already soaking through, but I think the flow might be slowing down. He's lucky I'm not very strong. I could have done a lot more damage with that rock if I wasn't so petite.

"Who is he?" Gale asks. This causes me to look away from the blood-soaked ribbon and up at Gale instead.

"Who's who?" I ask.

"The guy you thought was about to attack you."

It's not exactly a question I want to answer, so I shake my head and focus back on the ribbon and his bleeding head. "It's no one. Come on. Let's get you to Mrs. Everdeen."


	7. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

By the time the sun starts to set in the horizon, Gale and I are just outside of the Everdeen's front door, saying our goodbyes. It hadn't taken her very long to close up the cut on his head, and thankfully, Mrs. Everdeen hadn't been as panicked as I was when we first showed up. Seeing blood didn't seem to phase her at all. Even thinking about blood makes me feel queasy, especially when it's my fault someone is bleeding. The entire walk over, Gale's attempts to make me feel better were pointless. Even now that I know he's okay, I still feel guilty and can't bring myself to look him in the eyes. I wonder if Mrs. Everdeen can tell the discomfort between us, and she's just pretending not to notice.

"Watch where you're going next time, Gale. This could've been much worse." Her words are motherly and firm. Even if she suspects differently, she's still playing along like she believes he really did trip and fall into a rock. It might be more believable if Gale had a history of being clumsy. He might be a lot of things but clumsy isn't one of them.

"I will." He reassures her with a small smile. I'm still not sure why he lied to her in the first place. I had been prepared to tell her the truth, but Gale made up a story before I had the chance to speak.

After one last set of quick goodbyes, Gale and I walk away. The walk is painfully silent, unlike the usual comfortable silence between us. There's nothing I feel like I can say, though, so I keep my mouth shut. When it comes to the part in town where we should go our separate ways to get home, Gale stays by my side and walks with me instead. This makes me nervous but is also a relief. After seeing Cormack earlier today, I really have no interest in going anywhere on my own. At the same time, I really don't want that awkward moment when I'll have to look at him and see the bandage on his forehead. With a defeated expression on my face, I keep walking, refusing to look over at him. The only sound is our feet connecting with the pavement and the grass.

We're still a good quarter of a mile away from my house when Gale suddenly stops walking, which in turn, forces me to stop. Reluctantly, I turn to face him for the first time since I initially hit him with the rock. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I'm surprised to see his expression is soft. For all of the reasons he's been mad at me in the past, I almost can't believe he's not mad at me for this. If I make too much noise while we're hunting, he's mad. If I wear a dress made of silk, he's mad. If i talk about strawberries or cinnamon or almonds, he's mad. Literally, I feel like everything makes him mad at me. Then, the one time I think I actually deserve his anger, he's standing in front of me looking like a gentle giant. I'll never understand him.

"Are you okay?" He asks me.

"Am I okay?" I repeat, the confusion evident on my face. How can he be asking me if I'm okay? He's the one I'm worried about. "Gale, I attacked you."

"Trust me. I know." He says as he reaches his hand up and touches the bandage on his head. I blush, but before I can say anything, he's speaking again. "Who is he?"

This is a repeat question from earlier, and I try to think of a way to avoid answering. It'll be useless, though. I think he specifically stopped before I got home so he could get answers out of me. Away from Errol. Away from my front door, so I can't just run away and lock him out. The only thing I can do is tell him what he wants to hear. There's a long pause as I look down at the ground in between us. I've never told anyone about Cormack before, and it makes me uncomfortable that I'm about to. It was always my little secret. I kept it locked away and tried so many times to forget about it, and now here I am about to open up this small part of me that I never wanted to.

"Cormack Holmes." I finally answer while still looking down at the ground.

"I know Cormack." I look up at Gale and see the confused expression on his face.

"I know." I answer simply as I look back down at the ground. Gale and Cormack used to get sports games together and play in the school field during the summer when it wasn't occupied. Girls were never invited, and even if they ever had been, I'd be the last person they ever wanted around. Everyone always made that clear. Gale, included.

"What happened?" Gale presses.

"It was so long ago. I barely remember." I lie.

"You're a terrible liar." His words cause me to finally stop looking at the ground, and I look up to meet his stare.

"I was eight." I begin, trying to carefully put together my thoughts and words. "He and his friends cornered me in the field by Mr. Delton's. They were just trying to scare me is all."

"Well, it worked." Gale comments, and I nod in agreement. "What did they do?"

Why is he pressing this? The more he asks, the less I want to tell him, and my insides ache uncomfortably as the memory is inescapable. My face must mirror my thoughts because Gale's expression softens again. He actually looks concerned, which is entirely new, and I'm not sure how to react to it. I think I'm beginning to miss the harsh Gale that I had grown so accustomed to. I don't like people feeling sorry for me.

"What did they do, Madge?" He repeats. As he watches me, I have to remind myself to take deep breaths. This is making me more nervous than it should be, and this is precisely why I always try so hard to never think about Cormack.

"They wanted to see if I bled like everyone else." By the time I finally say it, my voice is so monotone that you'd think I was speaking about the weather. This time, I keep my eyes fixed on him, and I can see his jaw tighten in anger. That's the look I'm used to. This is so strange to me. It almost doesn't feel real. I feel as if I'm somehow dreaming and watching this from someone else's perspective. I'm so transfixed on nothing in particular that I'm startled when Gale takes a step towards me. Reflexively, I flinch and take a step back. It's only once I've stepped back that I snap back to reality and see that Gale is just as startled as I am that I flinched away from him. I instantly feel guilty for the second time today.

In an attempt to recover my blunder, I step towards him again and hold out my left hand in-between us. The sun is still peaking from behind the horizon enough that he can see the pink scar on my hand. I can no longer read the expression on his face, but when he reaches for my hand, I let him without flinching this time. It feels awkward that he's examining my hand so intently, and my heart races nervously and uncomfortably at the attention. His fingertips trace against the raised pink skin of my scar, again and again until I can't take it anymore. I pull my hand back out of his grip and clench it in a fist at my side. The silence now is neither comfortable nor painful. It's unreadable, and it's making me nervous.

"Say something." I practically beg.

Nothing. Still silence. I wait, not knowing what else to do. What's he thinking? I can usually read his expression but not this time. I can't figure anything out, and I begin to think that I shouldn't have told him any of this. Without a word, Gale turns and starts walking away from me. For some reason, this makes me feel like my heart is breaking. The one person I tell this horribly embarrassing story to, and he walks away from me….

"Gale…" It's no use, though. He's not stopping, and he's not turning back around to face me. He's simply walking away like he can't be bothered to look at me anymore. I can't recall ever feeling as embarrassed as I do now, but I refuse to show the same emotions that I so foolishly showed last night. I don't cry. I don't even blink. I simply turn and start walking towards my house. If he thinks so little of me that he leaves me without a word, then I can think so little of him to not care. With a straight face, I continue on the familiar path back home. It's been a long day, and I don't even care that I'll most likely have to see Errol soon. I just want to be in the comfort of my own home and try to forget that this moment happened


	8. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven**

The moment I step foot into the familiarity of my home, I feel an instant rush of relief. The closed in walls somehow keep my thoughts in tact, and I can finally stop thinking about Gale and what transpired only moments ago. When Errol suddenly appears to meet me in the front hallway, I can't even bring myself to feel my usual frustration towards him. If anything, it's a nice break from thinking about Gale. He must be able to tell the change in my demeanor towards him because he watches me with a raised eyebrow. No doubt he's waiting for me to tense my shoulders or stare at him coldly, but I don't.

"Are you okay?" He finally asks, tilting his head to the side as he watches me.

"Yes." I respond simply and slightly more pleasantly than I usually speak to him. He doesn't seem to know what to do with this new attitude, and in all honesty, i don't either. I think I'm just exceptionally glad to be dealing with someone other than Gale. Of course, I can't tell Errol that.

"Right, well… I have to run into town." He nods at me. "You'll come with me" There's the bossy Errol I'm used to. For once, I actually don't mind, though.

"Alright." He seems shocked again by my lack of stiffness towards him, but he doesn't dwell on it any more than I do. Instead, we just walk out the front door, and I'm back into the cool night air. Once I have time to reevaluate my embarrassing conversation with Gale, I'm sure I'll regret being pleasant to Errol now, but it really seems to be the only thing keeping me sane. I could probably be in anybody's company right now, and it would be better than being alone with my thoughts.

As we walk aimlessly through the streets, we mostly get by on small talk. We fill each other in on the monotony of our days, but of course, I mostly just lie to him. Just because I don't hate him right this second doesn't mean I'm ready to tell him that I attacked Gale thinking he was a bully from my past. My lies must be convincing enough because he occasionally nods or gives a reassuring "hmm" to let me know he's listening. I show the same courtesy even though I'm not incredibly thrilled with the details of his day. I'm sure he's feeding me lies too, but I play along.

The longer we walk. the more I'm feeling a sense of deja vu. I feel like I've been here before, but I can't put my finger on when or why. It's the feeling of walking with someone I think I hate, but there's an odd sense of ease between us for the first time. I even find myself laughing as he recounts an old story about our fathers. When he first showed up in our house, I didn't believe for a second that our fathers were actually old acquaintances, but the story he's telling me seems so real. Why would he go to the trouble of making this up? He's still a mystery that I can't figure out.

"So then my dad tries to distract the guy by…." His eyes narrow. This is when I realize I wasn't watching where we were going, and instead, I had just been watching him tell me this story. My eyes move to where he's glaring, and I feel my eyes narrow as well.

"What's going on?" I try to see past the commotion. We haven't even hit the town yet. We're on the outside of the main merchant district, but there's a crowd of people blocking my view.

"I'm not sure." Errol looks concerned, and he holds out his arm to stop me from walking any more. "Stay here. I'll be right back." I don't protest. I always do as I'm told, whether it's Errol, my father, my teachers, my friends, Gale. It seems simpler to just be compliant than to get into a standoff. I've never been stubborn. I've always been agreeable. Most people just don't notice because they're so focused on hating who they think I am.

My feet are planted firmly on the ground as I watch Errol walk towards the commotion, and I try to squint into the distance in an attempt to see what's going on. I can hear shouting, but other than that, I'm not sure what it is. Regardless, I feel uneasy and slightly antsy. I'm about to give up trying to see when there's a slight clearing in the crowd. It's very brief, but I think I see a familiar face. I know Errol told me to stay, but instinctively, I take a few steps forward. Then a few steps more. Finally I'm close enough that I can see him again. My breath catches in my throat.

"Gale…" His name manages to escape my lips, and instantly, I'm running. I'm running towards the crowd, and my legs are carrying me so fast that I run right past Errol. He tries to stop me, but I push past him and keep running. It's still hard to tell what exactly is going on, but I swear I can see blood. "Gale!" I shout once I get close enough that I can start pushing my way through the crowd of people. It takes every ounce of energy I have to force my way through these people, pushing and shoving as much as I can. Something's wrong. He's hurt. I need to get to him.

By the time I force my way to the front of the crowd, everything seems to fall into place. Gale's not hurt. Cormack is. My eyes quickly dart from Gale's bloody hand to Cormack's bloody face and chest as he's lying helpless on the ground, and the panic in me only rises. Why has nobody stopped this? How can everyone sit back and watch this unfold? It makes me sick to think that the people in the districts can be just as fascinated by these brutal displays as those animals from the Capitol. The only thing I can think to do is stop it myself. I'm not sure what makes me think this is a good idea because I'm too small to really protect anybody. This is my fault, though. I have to stop it before Gale kills him.

Without hesitation, I throw myself on top of Cormack, trying to block his body from Gale's unrelenting fist. I close my eyes tight, waiting for the blow that's sure to come since I've gotten in Gale's way without warning. Surprisingly, it doesn't. His reflexes as a hunter must be good enough that he could quickly stop himself from hitting me. Part of me is surprised he didn't just hit me, anyway. I'm sure he's not happy with me right now. Well, I'm not happy with him either. He took my secret. He left me feeling like a fool for even telling him. Then he continued to call attention to us by very publicly harming the boy I've always been afraid of. It isn't my secret anymore. People will know. People will look at my differently. What has he done?

"Madge…" My face is still pressed against Cormack's bloody and wheezing chest as Gale's voice rings through the murmured crowd. He doesn't sound mad.

Slowly, I lift my head and turn to face Gale. I'm sure there's blood on my face from the angle I was lying on top of him. Whether it's blood from Cormack's face or blood from Gale's fist is another matter entirely. The moment I see Gale's face, I feel my anger disappear. He's not mad. He's hurt. There's nothing I can do or say right now. My mind is still trying to process this moment. I'm confused. The same confusion crosses Gale's features, and I watch him as he stumbles backwards, trying to get away. The crowd slowly starts to clear around him, leaving him the perfect opening. We finally break eye contact when he turns around and starts jogging away. It looks like he and Errol exchange glares, but I can't be sure. At this point, I really don't care.

The sound of Cormack coughing brings my attention away from Gale's retreating body in the distance. I look down just in time to see him coughing up blood, and my insides begin to feel queasy. No one is offering to help us. Everyone is just watching or starting to walk away, and I feel my cheeks burning in anger. What am I supposed to do? Cormack is twice my size. He needs help. More help than I can offer. That won't stop me from trying, though. I lift myself off of his body and try to hook my arm around his back. Maybe if I can just lift him slightly to his feet….

That's when a set of strong hands reaches down and lifts us up in one swift movement. It's Errol. I sigh in relief when I realize he's going to help. He doesn't look particularly pleased, but I'm thankful he's here.

"Do you know where he lives?" Errol asks me. I nod in response. Of course, I know where he lives. I spent most of my childhood purposely avoiding his part of town. "Lead the way."

This is no time for me to be arguing with Errol. I don't want to argue, anyway. If he told me to jump off a roof right now, I probably would. Partly because I'm so flustered by this whole situation and partly because I find myself trusting him right now. Maybe I'm being foolish for trusting him, or maybe he's really not as bad as I originally thought. Sure, he's bossy, and he's not the most polite man around. Then again, neither is Gale. Oh God, Gale. Thinking about him and what he's done has my legs feeling weak, and I have to put extra energy into walking normally. In fact, I have to put extra energy just into standing. With everything that's happened today, I can't believe I'm still moving. I'm not sure I can handle anything else tonight


	9. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight**

Everything feels like a dream. It's almost as if I'm watching all of this unfold through a stranger's eyes, and I'm not myself anymore. How did I end up sitting in Cormack's kitchen and holding a cold cloth to his particularly warm forehead? Logically, I know exactly how I ended up here, but I'm trying really hard not to think about Gale and the way he behaved tonight. Instead, I stare way too intently at the cloth in my hand and watch as small beads of water drip off the edges and slide down Cormack's face. His right eye is swollen shut, and he's got a sizable cut at the bridge of his nose. He's in pain, but he's trying not to show it. It's commendable but unnecessary. We're not people he has to impress. Except maybe Errol.

Errol, my Capitol spy. He's not even trying to hide his disdain for Cormack, and Cormack certainly isn't trying either. Listening to the two of them going back and forth makes me feel like I'm the only cordial person left in town. For the last ten minutes or so, I've mainly been trying to tune them out, but occasionally I'll overhear the insults being thrown. If they don't watch their tempers, I'll have to stop a fight for the second time tonight.

"I didn't ask for your help!" Cormack's words would have been easy enough to ignore, but his actions are what bring me back to the argument ensuing in front of me. He reaches for my hand and pushes it away from his forehead. Errol lets out a sound that's eerily similar to a growl as he steps forward to put himself in between me and Cormack. It's subtle, so I don't think much of it. With a defeated sigh, I let my hands drop to my sides, but I keep the wet cloth gripped firmly in my hand.

"Oh trust me. I didn't want to help you. And for the life of me, I can't figure out why Madge did." Errol turns his head slightly to glare at me, but the brunt of his anger is still directed at Cormack. Thankfully. Almost as soon as he shoots me the glare, he's back to pointing his condescending finger in Cormack's face.

This is when I begin to tune them out again. I use this moment to step away to the kitchen sink, and I fold the cloth up neatly before I lay it down at the edge. I'm not sure what I was expecting when I protected Cormack from Gale. I really shouldn't be surprised that he's such an unkind man because he was an unkind boy too. I was naive to think he might be somewhat grateful. Not that it matters. If I'm faced with the situation again, I'll still protect him. I'll protect anybody. I'll never sit back and let this kind of violence happen in front of me.

Seems hypocritical, doesn't it? There's violence happening in front of me all the time, but I'm always so powerless to stop it. Maybe that's why I felt the need to stop Gale. It was actually in my control. I wish I could do more, but as long as I'm stuck in District 12, I'll only ever be able to help people like Cormack. The thought causes me to frown, and I'm thankful that I'm facing away from Errol and Cormack so they can't see me.

The two of them certainly aren't making things any easier. The arguing is starting to give me a headache, and I have to shut my eyes tightly in an attempt to focus. I'll never understand people who are so prone to arguing. How hard is it to compromise and agree to disagree? Not hard. Not hard at all.

"Nobody wants you here." Cormack's voice is laced with some kind of venom. He's talking to Errol, of course, but I can tell the moment he directs his words to me instead. "Nobody wants you here either."

For the first time, Errol doesn't have a quick comeback, and there's an odd silence that fills the room. I finally turn away from the kitchen sink to face them, and my cheeks blush when I realize they're both staring at me. It's as if they're just waiting for me to say something. What do they expect me to say in response to that? I already know nobody wants me here. Once Errol realizes I'm not going to say anything, he looks frustrated. I can't tell if he's frustrated with me or with Cormack. Probably both of us. I don't blame him.

"Let's go, Madge." Errol abruptly turns and starts heading towards the front door. On his way to the door, he reaches for my arm and pulls me along with him. There's no need for me to protest because I want to get out of there just as much as he does. Especially now that I know Cormack is fine. He just needs a few days to recover. His ego might take a little longer to recover, though. The thought has me grinning as we walk out, and I quietly close the door behind us.

Silence sets between us as we make the trek back to my house. I don't have anything to say, and I've never been one to partake in idle chitchat. Some people are naturally charming and talkative. Not me. I'm more of a wallflower, which is just fine with me. I say what needs to be said, and that's about it. Errol must be the same way because he's making no effort to start talking about silly things like the weather or how long it takes to get home.

"Why'd you do it?" Errol finally asks me once we're about halfway back to my house. I don't pretend to be confused by his question. I know exactly what he's asking.

"Everyone was just watching. I had to." I tell him simply but honestly. "Is that why you helped me take him home?" The silence confirms that I'm right. Everyone was watching me try to lift Cormack, and no one offered to help. That's when Errol stepped in. Obviously, he's not as terrible as he pretends to be.

"Was that true? What he said about nobody wanting you here?"

"Mostly."

"Mostly?"

"Some people like me. Some people tolerate me. Most people dislike me." I shrug. I'm not sure what else to say, so I try to leave it at that. Simple enough, right?

"Why?" He presses.

"Probably the same reason you dislike me." I tell him. He seems taken aback by my honesty.

"I don't dislike you."

"You did yesterday." He opens his mouth to argue, but then he doesn't say anything. He knows I'm right. "It's okay. I didn't like you yesterday either."

For a moment, we make eye contact, and neither of us says anything. A grin starts to spread across my face, and his expression begins to mirror mine. I'm not sure when or why we started to like each other, but in all honesty, I don't really care. It feels nice to be walking home with someone who had my back when I needed help. For the time being, I'll try to ignore the fact that he's from the Capitol.

"You're stronger than you look." Errol tells me once the grins subside on our faces. "There's hope for you."

The words he chooses to use are strange to me. It's meant to sound reassuring, but there's something ominous about it. There's hope for me. Hope that I'll make friends? Hope that I'll avoid Cormack? Hope that I won't end up like my mother? Hope that I'll live past the next couple of Reapings until I'm too old to be called? I desperately want to ask him what exactly he means, but we get interrupted. That seems to be a normal occurrence for me… getting interrupted at the most inopportune times.

"Madge…" He stops walking, and I stop with him. The look I'm giving him must show my confusion because he motions his head towards my house. When I look to see what he sees, I can feel my heart start to beat slightly faster. Gale is standing at the bottom of the stairs leading to my front door. It's where he's always standing, and it's where we always get into fights. Hasn't he done enough damage tonight?

"I wonder what he wants." I'm sure he wants to scold me for getting in his way with Cormack, but truth be told, I'm in no mood to get scolded. I feel as if I've done nothing wrong, and I'd rather not let him upset me. When I look up at Errol, he's frowning at me, though.

"I forgot to pick something up in town. Go on home. I'll be back later." Before I can protest, Errol is turning and walking away, back towards town. It's like he's purposely giving me some privacy so I can speak with Gale, but for the first time, I don't want privacy with Gale. I want Errol to walk over there with me so it will be easy to ignore Gale and just go inside. Why has he suddenly become more considerate when I want him to be overbearing? I glare after him until he's too far away for me to even call him back.

With a sigh, I finally force my feet to move forward, and I start walking towards Gale. He's far enough away that I have some time to compose myself, but he's close enough that I can see the scour on his face. I mentally start to prepare myself for whatever lashing I'm about to get, but then I stop myself. This isn't fair. If anyone should be mad here, it should be me. I told him a secret, and he took that and used it to harm someone.

My heart is pounding against my chest as I try to work up the courage to stand up to him. Despite my nerves, my feet are steady, and I'm focused. Once I start crossing the lawn, Gale starts walking towards me, rather forcefully. I don't flinch, and I don't back down. I keep walking too.

"Cormack is fine, by the way. And I'll have you know that-" My words are abruptly cut off once Gale reaches me, and he presses his lips against mine. The whole thing is so startling that I don't know what else to do other than let him kiss me. The frustration in me starts to disappear as his hands hold my cheeks firmly so I can't pull away. Not that I would pull away, anyway. I've been kissed before but never like this. I feel a tug in the pit of my stomach, and my skin feels like it's on fire. Whatever this is, it makes me forget about everything else, and I don't want it to end. Please don't end


End file.
